Beauty's Blemish - Poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis

Autoplay next video

You are as young, O lady mine,As ere you were in olden days,Your lips are red, your blue eyes shine,And still you have your girlish ways.I hate to think what years have flownSince first I praised these things, mine own.

Your frocks still have that youthful cut,Garbing a svelte form, slim and flat.You should be spreading, darling butYour middle-age has brought no fat.Indeed, you sometimes seem at nightsA flapper, seen in certain lights.

My fond eyes have surveyed you, sweet,Thro' all these years and found no fault.Your lustrous hair, your tiny feetAre still perfection. Yet a haltIn my high praise wakes sudden fears:You're growing old behind the ears!